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She’s beautiful. She’s a straight-A student. She is popular. She is obedient. She follows the rules. She’s smart and intelligent. She’s practical, unemotional. She has a great job.
Whereas me, I’m the opposite of that.
Even though I have freckles and my hair is savage and wild and my golden eyes are witchy, I look exactly like my sister.
But that’s where the similarities end.
I never had a lot of friends. I can barely pass a subject, let alone score perfect As. I don’t even think I’m going to college, let alone getting a great job. My only ambition right now is to run away and live somewhere else so I don’t try to steal my sister’s boyfriend.
Not to mention I don’t even want to be perfect.
I don’t want to be like her or all the perfect people out there. Perfection intimidates me. All the rules intimidate me.
All I’ve ever wanted is to be myself, however flawed and imperfect that may be.
And all I’ve ever wanted is for my imperfection to be somehow perfect for him.
For her boyfriend.
So yeah, why would she like me?
On top of being completely different from her, I’m secretly betraying her. Her hatred for me is totally warranted.
But this isn’t about me and her and how different we are.
It’s about him and her.
So I take a deep breath and dial the number that I’ve memorized because we’re sisters. We should remember each other’s numbers by heart. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t think so but it’s okay.
I chew on my thumb – which Sarah completely hates – as I wait for her to pick up.
Pick up, pick up, pick up.
A few rings later, I hear a click and her smooth, sophisticated voice. “Hello?”
A breath whooshes out of me.
It’s my sister.
My sister.
My flesh and blood. My best friend. Or at least, I wish.
“Hello?” Sarah goes again. “Hello? Who is it?”
“Sarah?” I say in a hoarse voice before clearing my throat. “Uh, it’s… it’s Salem.”
For a few seconds, she doesn’t say anything.
But I know we’re still connected; I can hear things in the background, white noise from wherever she is.
“Salem?”
Her voice is full of disbelief and I get that. I’m probably the last person, no definitely the last, she was expecting to hear from.
“Yes,” I say into the phone. “It’s me. Uh, hi.”
I chew on my nail again after that lame greeting. Like things are normal. Like I call her every day and I live in the regular world instead of being at St. Mary’s where they have a hundred pages worth of rules about making a simple phone call.
“Hold on a second,” she says.
Then I hear her murmuring something to someone before I feel her walking. Her high heels click-clack on the floor that sounds tiled until the sounds around her fade and her voice comes out clearer. “How… Where are you calling from?”
“Uh, from a phone?” I say nervously, spitting out the cuticle that I’d accidentally chewed off my thumb.
Again, lame.
But God, she freaks me out. My sister freaks me out.
“Are you trying to be funny right now?” she snaps.
“No, I –”
“Oh God,” she breathes as if to herself.
“What?”
“You’re not at St. Mary’s, are you? You ran away. You finally ran away.”
That was a shock to her, what I did that night: trying to run away with one hundred and sixty-seven dollars.
“Do you have any idea what kind of position this puts me in? That woman is going to be my mother-in-law, Salem. I’m marrying into that family and my sister is stealing from them. How can you be so selfish? So freaking thoughtless. And after everything that Leah has done for us. Everything. You know what, I don’t even care. I don’t care what you do. I’m washing my hands of you.”
I completely understood her anger. I did put her in a bad position, even though I was running away to keep her relationship safe from my witchy presence.
And I completely understand her shock now and that’s why I jump to reassure her.
“No, no, no. I’m at St. Mary’s, I swear. I’m here.” I splay a hand on my chest for emphasis like she can see it, like she can see me standing here, inside this reject, dusty bathroom.
“Then, how the heck are you calling me?” Her voice becomes shrill.
“Look –”
“I know the rules, Salem. I had Leah email me the entire welcome packet. I know you’re not allowed to call so think very carefully before you answer me.”
All right, everyone. This is my sister.
She doesn’t even go to St. Mary’s and she’s read the entire welcome packet. Whereas I never made it past the table of contents.
If there was any doubt in my mind – which there wasn’t – that Arrow and my sister belong together, it would be banished at this very second.
This gives me the strength to push through.
